


everything was normal but it wasn't right

by starboykeith



Series: SHEITH MONTH 2017 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Established Relationship, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Introspection, M/M, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Mild Angst, Season 1, Sheith Month 2017, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-30 09:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11460366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboykeith/pseuds/starboykeith
Summary: A lot of things are different, now that Shiro's free.





	everything was normal but it wasn't right

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt 'freedom' for day four of sheith month 2017
> 
> title from machine by tender

**i.**  
  
Shiro's bed is too soft.   
  
Objectively, he knows their beds must be perfect - Lance is always waxing poetic about the fluffiness of their pillows and the give of the mattress, and even Keith doesn't complain, when Shiro knows Keith used to struggle with insomnia as much as he did himself.   
  
As he does now.   
  
The persistent twinge in his back has long-faded, physical testament to the fact that Shiro should be getting the best sleep of his life, but he'd rather be in pain than stare unendingly at the ceiling night after night, trapped in his own head until morning rolls around.   
  
Sometimes he does fall asleep, but it isn't worth it: he wakes screaming, or sobbing, or gasping for breath as though all the air has been sucked into space, and Shiro's almost _glad_ he can't sleep, sometimes, because the act scares him.   
  
He's tried the floor; tried to recreate the chill of his Galran cell, littered with rocks and odd stains of alien blood and the promise that wherever he lay, he would be in pain.   
  
Shiro misses that.   
  
Sometimes he sleeps in Keith's bed.   
  
Keith's bed is soft, too - but so is Keith, and Shiro holds him in the early morning, buries his face between Keith's shoulder blades and occasionally manages to catch a few hours of dreamless, unbroken sleep. It feels like a miracle every time, and Shiro can never confess to Keith how grateful he is, because Keith would be stricken with the knowledge that Shiro only sleeps well in his bed, and would probably try to make allowances for Shiro, even if he didn't actually want him there.   
  
No, Shiro thinks. He can do this by himself. There is time. This cannot have doomed him yet.   
  
He usually wakes, confused and uneasy at the prospect of rising from real sleep, with his head pillowed on Keith's chest, Keith's fingers carding through his hair.   
  
Sometimes, Shiro pretends to sleep just a little bit longer. 

 

* * *

**ii.**  
  
He's got so much _time_.   
  
Sure, he's the black paladin, the leader of Voltron, defender of the universe - but they spend a lot of time flying from one place to another, and all there is to do on the ship is train, and eat, and sleep.   
  
And Shiro trains - trains with the other paladins nearly every day, gets his ass kicked by Allura every day - and he puts up with the food goo like everyone else.   
  
But he doesn't have a routine. Every day is marginally different, and Shiro can't stand it. He feels like he lacks a purpose, feels like he's missing something when there seems to be nothing to do, like he's doing something _wrong_.   
  
So Shiro fills his time. It isn't structured in the way he'd like, but it's worthwhile, he thinks. He's happy with what he's doing, at least.   
  
Lance's crises tend to come just after everyone's gone to bed, when Shiro will come down to the lounge area on another circuit of the silent castle and find Lance curled up on the couch, picking at the fabric with trembling fingers. He's defensive at first, sitting up and hugging his knees close, but Shiro's always willing to wait, and to listen. Lance misses his home. Shiro thinks he feels the same way about his cell.   
  
"You always have time for me, Shiro," Lance says thickly, eyes shining with unshed tears, but his hands have stopped their restless destruction. "It - it means a lot, you know?"   
  
Shiro knows.   
  
Pidge is - well, she's Pidge. Shiro's known her since she was Katie, had always admired how she wasn't just Matt's little sister but Matt's friend, his _best_ friend, part of their group since day one. And now Matt is gone and it's just Shiro and he could never fix that, doesn't have the words to reassure her, but he can sit with her through the night, the day, the early morning as she types and types and eventually falls asleep over her keyboard. Most nights, Shiro covers her with a blanket and turns her computer off. Some nights, he carries her back to her room, her face still tacky with tears.   
  
Hunk was more difficult, but soon enough it isn't hard to work out that Hunk prefers to bake when he's stressed, frustrated, upset, and that works well enough for him, so Shiro leans against the counter and they just talk, long and rambling. Hunk reminds Shiro to eat and makes him cookies that occasionally make Shiro fear for his teeth but are usually amazing, sweet and reminiscent of home - _real_ home. They don't really get into stuff, but Hunk always claps Shiro on the shoulder and says, "Thanks, man," brown eyes warm and making Shiro think that maybe, maybe he is good at something.   
  
Then there's Keith, and Shiro's been saving Keith and Keith's been saving him since they met.   
  
Shiro's known Keith the longest, and he's _still_ the most difficult; it's hard to figure out if Keith wants to be alone, if he's going to snap coldly at Shiro when he comes in, or if all Keith wants is to curl up with Shiro and block the world out.   
  
Keith comes to Shiro more often than not - knowing he won't be asleep and slipping into his room, or finding him training late at night and joining him to spar, or quietly curling up beside him on the couch without saying a word.   
  
It means a lot to Shiro, to know them all like this, but it's also gratifying to know that he can spend an hour or so _helping_ ; having a plan for the time and achieving that goal in the return of Lance's smile, or the warmth in Hunk's eyes, or the renewed steadiness of Pidge's hands on the keyboard. 

 

* * *

**iii.**    
  
Perhaps the hardest thing to get used to is his stature.   
  
It hadn't been noticeable over his year in Galra captivity, of course. He had figured he was getting bigger, getting stronger, and the only emotion it gave him was relief: that he'd be able to fight better, avoid damage to himself, _survive_.   
  
He's always been tall, and strong, but now, in a domestic, normal environment, Shiro feels wrong. He's too big, lumbering and awkward, takes up too much space in a room no matter how he hunches and folds his arms and curls up in a ball in Keith's bed.   
  
And Keith, God. Shiro is terrified of hurting Keith.   
  
Keith hadn't commented on anything - probably sensed that Shiro didn't want to bring it up, because he's intuitive like that but somehow nowhere near that subtle with social skills - but Shiro quietly makes changes.   
  
He starts with their intimacy - makes sure to pull Keith onto his lap, lets Keith have all the control, lets Keith lick into his mouth and bite at his lips. Even when Keith is squirming and panting to take things further and Shiro desperately wants to roll them over and pin him down, he can't, he _can't_ , and he stills Keith with a gentle touch on his hip and distracts him by marking his neck instead, because Shiro - isn't ready for that again, not yet, not the way he is.   
  
It's harder to be around Keith when he refuses to touch him with the Galra arm, because Shiro always has a hand on Keith's arm, waist, shoulder, and Keith always stands on his right.   
  
Shiro flinches when Keith touches his metal arm, even over his jacket; or when Keith moves to hold his hand, a touch Shiro can't politely pull away from. It's hardest when Keith asks him to spar, because Shiro is used to fighting with his Galra arm, used to fighting back _hard_ , because sometimes it was his life on the line. Keith calls him out for going easy on him and Shiro can't even deny it, but he can't take the risk.   
  
He thinks the others might notice his withdrawal as well: there's always sympathy in the looks thrown his way when he indicates he won't shower with them, won't change with them; but Keith is worst, the way his eyes go soft with guilt and unhappiness when Shiro changes in the bathroom and situates himself, back turned, a width away from Keith in bed.   
  
It's for good reason, Shiro tells himself. He doesn't want to be seen, because he's different now, big and broken and scarred. He doesn't want to touch anyone, because for too long his hands have only hurt, not helped, and he is scared they will not recognise the difference anymore. 

 

* * *

**iv.**    
  
Keith stands by his side. Keith won't allow him to sequester himself away. Keith puts Shiro's hands on his body and kisses the metal of his fingers.   
  
After a while, if Shiro doesn't sleep in Keith's bed, Keith will come to him.   
  
Sometimes, he says nothing, just slips into the room on quiet little lion's paws and crawls between the sheets with Shiro; curls against his side or his back, and always takes Shiro's metal hand in his.   
  
Sometimes, he will whisper, "Are you awake?" as though he doesn't already know the answer, and then Shiro will sit up in bed and welcome Keith beside him, put an arm around him, and they'll talk until one of them gets tired. Sometimes, that person is actually Shiro.   
  
Shiro could stop Keith from doing it, if he really wanted to, but he added Keith's handprint to his locking mechanism for a reason.   
  
Even if Shiro doesn't sleep - and there are plenty of those nights - it's comforting to have Keith there. It means Shiro isn't trapped inside his own head. It means he can run his fingers through Keith's hair, absent-mindedly rub Keith's back, rest a hand on Keith's waist. It means he can think idly of Pidge's next technological innovation, or Hunk's next culinary invention; of how Black is doing, how she is feeling, if Shiro is any closer to winning her over; of Keith himself, how just his presence warms Shiro from his fingers to his toes and chases the nightmares away. 

 

* * *

**v.**    
  
Keith had always known Shiro had a thing for structure.   
  
Even at the Garrison, where life was strictly regimented anyway: Shiro had study timetables and lists and alarms and reminders, and Keith had often laid on his bed and looked at him upside down and said, "You inspire me to actually try."   
  
Now, Keith seeks Shiro out - most often, he tugs Shiro away from overworking, whether on strategy or training - and puts his foot down, says, "We're going for a walk," or, "We're gonna talk about our day, like normal people," and Shiro always acquiesces. They spar as well, as Shiro gradually becomes more confident in his ability not to hurt Keith, and they go back to their normal pattern of Keith ending up on his back almost every single time.   
  
Almost. Keith's improving a lot too.   
  
Sometimes Shiro opens his mouth to argue, and Keith always says, "Come on, just an hour."   
  
And it's _stupid_ , Shiro thinks, but it reassures him when Keith puts a time constraint on it, lets him know when they start and finish, and Keith always finds a way to reassure him verbally too.   
  
"That was a good use of two hours," he'll say, swinging their joined hands - Shiro's right, and Keith's left, because Keith insists on that, now - between them. He squeezes a little tighter upon catching sight of a disapproving face, often Allura's, because for all he's looking after Shiro, Keith is still apparently allergic to asking permission before his excursions.   
  
"Hey, nothing exploded while we were gone," he'll say in their defence, and sometimes Shiro even laughs. 

 

* * *

**vi.**    
  
Keith is always touching him.   
  
He puts Shiro's metal hand on his cheek, his waist, his hip; sometimes even kisses it like a knight wooing a princess, and though Shiro laughs and swats him away, it makes his chest feel warm. Keith's always stood on Shiro's right hand side, but now he always leans slightly against him, overt and unsubtle in a way that makes Shiro nervous, noticing the glances of the other paladins where Keith doesn't seem to care anymore.   
  
They keep sparring, keep touching, until Shiro isn't afraid to fight Keith anymore, isn't afraid to touch him.   
  
It's such a gradual process that one day they're kissing, tumbling onto Keith's bed and smiling helplessly, and it takes Shiro ages, _too_ long to realise that he's pinning Keith, even has his metal hand holding Keith's wrist down, but it doesn't make him panic, doesn't make his heart jump into his throat.  
  
He still shifts his weight from Keith, gives a fumbling apology and lowers his red face to Keith's neck, but Keith tilts his chin up, looks at him and says, "It's okay, Shiro, I trust you."   
  
It's enough to make Shiro tear up a little, the prospect of Keith's trust looming and seemingly impossible to live up to, to _earn_ , but Keith draws him down and kisses him again and maybe, Shiro thinks, maybe it could be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i really like this 
> 
> please leave a comment if you enjoyed, and subscribe to my profile or this series if you'd like to read more of my sheith month fics!
> 
> you can find me on twitter at twitter.com/starboysheith, and tumblr at starboykeith.tumblr.com !


End file.
